Believing In Differences
by McGonagall's Bola
Summary: Both of them were caught between two worlds, she having originated from the sea, he from the earth. Philip/Syrena


"How do you know these waters so well?" Philip wondered, although he thought he knew the answer already. The man shifted slightly to turn to her, wincing and holding his hand to his chest where he had been injured before, leaning back against the broken tree. The wound had healed over by the touch of her lips against his, but he still felt weak and sore and thought it might take a little while for her kiss to do its work. After all, he had nearly died and would have without her. Still, he had a hard time believing that the myths and legends he had been told, about weird creatures like the Kraken and mermaids, were true. One must believe it rather strange, considering he had sworn to a god, a deity, no one had seen.

Syrena didn't speak much or at all unless only absolutely necessary. She was quite mysterious, he thought, unlike most human women, and that somehow called to him even more than her unbelievable beauty. He had seen a lot of beautiful human women, but neither of them had done to him what Syrena could by merely looking at him with those beautiful hazel eyes, a shine of emerald in them if you cared enough to notice. She was so mysterious, so different. Philip knew that it must be unusual for a mermaid to kiss men, knew he most likely had been her first as she had been his, since from a very young age he had pledged himself to religion alone, and yet there she was acting like nothing at all had happened, like she hadn't saved him from dying by healing his wounds and… Yet, there she was sitting feet away from him, her fish tail in the water, swaying a little back and forth slowly and occasionally, as if she wanted to keep physical distance between them, even if Syrena's eyes were on him the entire time.

Seconds ticked by in which he waited patiently for her response and in which Syrena seemed to ponder her answer. At long last, she spoke, "Like your people are raised with stories, so are we."

Philip couldn't help feeling somehow disappointed at her very short and vague reply. He was a patient man, but he was a man with questions, too –– questions he knew she had answers on. Why had he just been able to breathe underwater when she had taken him there? What did it really mean? What was going to happen now? Where would they go from there, and would it be together, or not? He decided not to dwell on her earlier vague answer but ask the question that had burned in him ever since they had come above water and she had deposited him there before shying away from him again. "What have you done… to me?" he asked, trying not to sound too accusatory. He honestly didn't feel so in any way, but he wanted to know what had happened and try soothe the headache that was increasing fast in intensity at the knowledge that so many legends had proved true, and more incredulous facts than those had contained, too, like for instance the fact that above water, mermaids' tails disappeared, leaving them looking like any other woman… yet not. When she didn't answer, he chose to say more himself. "Syrena, I could breathe under water. What does that mean?"

"I've been selfish, Philip," Syrena replied, her voice barely louder and a whisper and loud enough for him to hear her. Her eyes had stayed on his, and he saw that what he thought was sorrow shine in those. "I believe that now it is I who needs to beg for forgiveness. A kiss from a mermaid can save a man's life but… only once and at a terrible price, because from that moment on, they're no longer a man."

"I'm afraid I'm not getting what you are trying to say."

At last, Syrena cast her gaze down, afraid to look at him much longer, it seemed. "I have condemned you with this to a life of being half man, half fish. Much like a mermaid, you can survive without water for a stretch of time, but surely not for very long. I've made a decision that wasn't really mine to make to save your life. I just couldn't let you die after…"

Syrena wouldn't even look at him. She kept her gaze down as if in great shame. Philip pushed back from the tree, breath seething as pain overwhelmed him again. He gnawed his teeth together. The almost-wince immediately brought Syrena's eyes on his level again, and as they did, Philip fell back against the broken wood. He couldn't move yet –– much. "After what, Syrena?"

"Are you not angry now?" she questioned, definitely having expected him to react on the fact that she had made a half human, half fish of him, instead of her unfinished sentence.

"How can I be angry with you, when I don't yet fully know what it all entails?" Philip asked in a tone more patient than any other person undoubtedly could have mastered in that very same position.

"My people will never take me back," Syrena whispered. "I've betrayed them. I have fallen for someone we're supposed to destroy for having destroyed so many of us before…"

Philip slowly connected the pieces. Neither she nor he now could live a full, human life, for the half that was fish needed water more than earth. They didn't belong on earth either, nor did they have a place to belong to under water, both of them caught between two worlds, she having originated from the sea, he from the earth. "Where do we go from here?" he asked.

"I have never… _loved_, Philip."

"If that is what you're worried about, I'm sure we're going to be fine together," Philip said with a smile.

"How can you know this? How can you live with someone who condemned you to a life that you didn't choose for?"

"Simple," he answered, regarding her beauty and innocence as she sat there with his green eyes. He knew he loved her. "I don't hold grudges like most of my own kind do, and you don't feel the need to destroy like most of your people do either. We're different, and that's why I believe we'll make it through, together."


End file.
